Desperate Times Breed Desperate Measures
by The Miffed Writer
Summary: Nero was stopped, but not in time to save Earth. Humans and Vulcans are both on the verge of extinction when it is realized that few females made it out alive. A solution must be found. The Vulcans find one.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey ya'll, review and be patient.**

**Star Trek does not belong to me, in fact this was based a prompt on LJ, STID kink meme 2.**

**Review please!**

The epidural begins working immediately, to Kirk's relief, the pain and her consciousness sliding away from her with the ease of water flowing out of her grip.

Her brain is a fogbank. It's a blank cloud, smudged grey around the edges like an answer erased from the same spot on a paper multiple times. She is aware that there is pain, but she is not actively feeling it. The storm cloud seems to gather itself, and she can only wait as the tempest beats against her helplessly.

Beneath the fogginess, the drugs and the pain, there is something that makes her relax even further into the comfort, even though she can't readily understand what it is.

A presence is there, and it is so warm, she allows it to envelope her, and then se hears the whisper, less of a whisper, and more of an understanding, an image.

_T'hy'la_

The sight of herself, face white and drawn with pain as the healers slice into her round, distended belly.

_Spock_, she thinks in wonder; could this be the bond that he had tried to explain? The one that Pike had been unable to allow her to fight against?

She thinks of Bones, the sad, given up sort of air as she cradles her own son,

"_**He's good to me, but what we have isn't what he had with Amanda. She was his T'hy'la, I'm just a companion."**_

Every bit of pride and instinct that once made her James Tiberius Kirk recoils when she finally lets that bond soothe her, letting it whisper, in its own strange way, _just rest, you are safe. You will be fine._

And for the first time in what feels like ages, Kirk lets herself feel safe and fade into true unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

There weren't enough cells to contain all of the humans, so the Vulcans had been forced to place groups together; it's the only decision possible, even though it isn't logical. Groupings of them are dangerous, in a group they had the chance to plan a counter attack. It was a calculated risk; nothing could be done for it.

The coup had been quick, efficient, _logical_; they'd learned from Jim's little trick with the Kobayashi Maru-inserting a subroutine into the programming of the Enterprise. It cut the lights and adjusted the atmospheric programming; before, it had been set at a happy medium so that the species aboard were comfortable, even if it wasn't their natural climate. Now, with gravity and oxygen on their side, the Vulcans on board had quickly overtaken the Starfleet personnel (and then there was the fact that the Vulcans had outnumbered them to begin with).

Kirk hadn't slept since before the coup, and he was sure that nearly everyone else on the ship had been the same; they'd grieved for their species, for their planet. They were tired, anxious-they were vulnerable, and the Vulcans had taken the opportunity.

The lights in the cell stay on all the time-whether or not this is a way to torture them or simply to disorient them, Kirk wasn't sure. He was more concerned with the others in the cell; in lieu of an opportunity to attack their betrayers, the prisoners have begun to turn on one another. Chekov was nearly beaten to a pulp before Kirk managed to pull the fucker off him. Since then, the tiny boy had been in a corner, curled into himself, occasionally crying softly. Kirk stayed close to him, snarling at anyone who so much as looks at the kid the wrong way.

It was pathetic; they were sentient beings, not animals.

"K-Keptin?" Chekov finally whimpered; Kirk turned his head to show the boy he had his attention. "Vhat is going to happen to us?"

The others in the cell had looked to him as well, and Kirk didn't know what to say. He was the captain; they were supposed to follow him. But this was a situation that no time in the Academy had prepared him for- this went beyond no win scenario. Jim Kirk, for all of his bravado and intelligence, doesn't know the answer to this question.

He didn't know.

"I…I don't know, Chekov."

"Not ensign?" That's right; they'd all been calling each other by rank for the most part since being locked up. But it seemed pointless to Jim; they had no ranks, they were only people at the moment.

"No. We aren't members of Starfleet anymore, Chekov."

"In zat case, my name is Pavel."

"Okay, Pavel, call me Jim." The kid gave him a blinding smile that made Jim want to cry. Somehow Jim managed to smile back at him (although he wondered if it resembled a grimace more than an actual smile). Pavel seemed to draw comfort in it nonetheless, and fell off to sleep.

Kirk didn't sleep; he hadn't slept since Nero. Every time he so much as closed his eyes he would see that mad, pathetic face, grinning in triumph. He would see the Earth grow smaller and smaller, pulling into itself; it had happened so fast in reality, but in his dreams it was frame by frame. He thought of the people who knew nothing of this, of the children, and felt such an overwhelming sense of failure he couldn't breathe. Staying awake was the easiest option.

They had come so close; they'd hidden in Saturn's rings undetected. The plan came so close to working; then the remaining ships of Starfleet had appeared. They had grouped together when the distress call from Vulcan came in and planned on making their way back to assist the survivors-only to be too late. They had been close enough to Earth to fall back to their home planet- only to come head to head with the _Narada_. Rather than fighting, they had turned tail and lead the _Narada_'s shuttles toward Saturn. The shuttles had caught sight of the _Enterprise_ and informed their captain that they were present. Ready for the attack, the Romulan's had been ready to fight Kirk and Spock long enough to destroy Earth. The only thing that had come of the disastrous mission was Captain Pike- he was rescued and still in a medically induced coma in sickbay; at least, he had been at the time of the coup.

Kirk had once gone 5 days without sleep; granted, he'd been severely intoxicated at the time, but he hadn't slept either. He had proof, because Bones had been by his side the whole time, nearly having a stroke studying for exams. He guessed that it had been less than 5, judging by the way he wasn't tired yet. He remembered from somewhere that in times of high stress, the human body was capable of producing enough adrenaline and natural caffeine that it could function for a ridiculous amount of time; so long as water and food were readily available.

That being said, the Vulcans did feed them- the problem was that the larger of the humans in the cells had positioned themselves closest to the door, they share water, but they hoard the food. Jim wondered if they were doing it to weaken them further. It was fascinating how they'd begun to turn on one another so quickly; Jim wasn't immune to it either- he'd been eyeing the group for a while, looking for possible weakness. He wondered what would happen to Pavel if they managed to kill him-then decided that he didn't want to think about it; they were brutes, hulking, almost half formed. Pavel wouldn't survive.

Jim wondered what became of Spock-both sets, as the matter went. The younger, from his own universe, hadn't been on the bridge when the coup had occurred, and they'd never heard back from the elder; Jim wondered if he was still on Delta Vega. He thought about it a lot, mostly because there wasn't very much to do, or to think about in here.

'Emotional Trensference' Spock had called it; Jim thought of the meld, or the memories and visions that Spock had given him. Of course he'd felt the grief (by now he was _quite_ familiar with it, thank you very much); it had been crushing, an overwhelming force that made Jim respect Spock in a whole new light. It was so heavy, so potent, that Jim knew it should have crushed him, and it might have, had it not been for the second emotion that had transferred through the bond; an unbridled string of thoughts that made Jim's heart beat a little faster at the memory, who knows how long afterwards.

_**(missyouashayamsoyoungnowsobeautifuldon'tleavemeagainleftmebeforealwaysleavesloveyout'hy'lawhydidyougoskinsmellsofsunshinevicelikesummerblueoceaneyesblueeyesnotbrownblueeyesnotminedon'tcarenothimmymate)**_

So much overwhelming love and acceptance, a light in the darkness that was swallowing him whole. He would never have thought that Spock, in this universe or an alternate, would be capable of so much emotion. But he was, apparently. He wondered, if he was still on Delta Vega, if he should inform someone when the time came. Jim made a note to tell them if someone came to get him. Not to mention the fact that the place also was a Starfleet base; it would be an opportune time to get supplies (had the situation been different, without a species that didn't do well in colder temperatures, it might have been a good place to build a colony, but it wasn't, so no use thinking about it).

The food they were given was a plate of sandwiches and a bowl of fruit. The replicator must have been stocked with human recipes, because they weren't served anything Vulcan. None of the Apes gave any to either Chekov or Jim, and devoured all of it themselves (save for tossing them a bottle of water each). Kirk contemplated creative ways to punish them- if he had still been captain at least. It takes time, but then Kirk notices that the Apes are acting oddly; they were slurring their words, and though they were sitting, it looked like they couldn't tell which way is up. It occurred to Kirk, in the split second that they managed to stay upright, and the next when they actually hit the floor, unconscious, that the food had been drugged.

Immediately, all exhaustion melts away from Jim's limbs, and he moves to cover Chekov, roughly shaking the Ensign awake without regard for his rest; the boy's eyes open just as the door did (although the latter did so with the metallic hiss of a lock undone). Chekov sprung to his feet with a surprising amount of grace just as a Vulcan glided into the room.

"Captain," the Vulcan greeted, and Jim was surprised. Captain? For one, the 'Fleet was now nonexistent, and two, they'd just taken his ship in a coup (well, not just, but still, the point stood); they didn't have to call him Captain. They had no obligation to do so. "You are requested to the bridge, sir."

"May Ensign Chekov attend as well?" Jim ventured cautiously; he unclenched his fist, but didn't step away from Pavel.

"There is no reason for him to do so."

"I assume that you've been keeping an eye on the security feed?" The Vulcan nodded, and Jim forced himself to be calm. Contrary to popular belief, he _did_ know how to be polite or diplomatic. The truth, however, was that diplomacy was a good mask to hide behind, and Jim had known from a young age that the best way to really know a person's goals was to push, to get in their face; obstinacy, flirting, laughter- Jim knew the buttons to push on person by sight, and he knew the code to break diplomacy. Reading people was something that he could do. But it was a game to play on a higher field. "You, know of course that the others," Jim gestured to the ones unconscious, "have attempted to attack Ensign Chekov once already. It would be dangerous for him to be in their company without my protection."

The Vulcan looked from Jim, to Chekov and down to the louts on the floor, before nodding. "This is acceptable. Come along then." He stepped aside to allow Jim and Chekov a way out first, before the door slid shut and looked automatically behind all three of them.

Jim couldn't resist a bit of teasing at that point, "what no handcuffs?" The Vulcan raised an eyebrow, but Jim was half teasing.

"Captain, you are in a unique position. You and your crew are not prisoners in the normal sense. You all are confined to relative comfort; you are given food, water, and facilities to relieve yourselves. However, should you attempt to escape, or take advantage of this; you will not be the only one to suffer. Do you understand?" Jim nodded, and allowed the Vulcan to lead them away.

Jim and Chekov followed without speaking. Jim kept his head high and spine straight; he was a captain still, even in name only. The one that had retrieved them had still called him 'Captain,' that had to mean something, right? In Jim's current position, they could have called him 'prisoner A56' and he would have had no choice but to go along with it. Chekov stayed close to him, though, and that was what he was concerned about; he didn't cling to the captain, necessarily, but he didn't stray further than 3 steps.

Nothing had changed as they walked the hallways; they could have been coming back from the mess hall. The only obvious change was when they arrived at the bridge; almost all of the consoles are manned by Vulcans, but both Chekov and Jim spot the dark haired human manning his own console; Sulu.

It takes all that Chekov has not to shout in joy, now that he knows his boyfriend is safe. But he kept his mouth shut and resolved to stay that way (even if it killed him). Sulu must not have known that his little boy-genius was present, because he didn't turn to face him- Kirk wondered if he'd been threatened.

Jim tastes bile as he recognizes the figure in the captain's chair- his chair, damn it. Spock sat there, his posture perfect. He stood and turned to face the (prisoners? Officers? What the hell were they?) humans brought to him.

"Captain Kirk." Spock said to him; his tone was totally level, as if nothing had happened. Jim refused to gag as he approached them, and he certainly refused to be cowed. It struck him just how different the two Spock's were- the elder, despite their brief meeting, left Jim with a sense of peace, despite the chaotic circumstances. The Spock in his own world though, made him want to scream, and that was before the Vulcan's took over.

"Spock." Jim returned, unable to keep all the hate out of his voice.

For a moment, they stare at each other- Spock looks as unruffled as ever, but Jim has no clue exactly what he might look like; after who knows how long without sleep, added to the fight with the others in their cell, he was probably a wreck. Nonetheless, he meets Spock's eyes without shame (he wasn't raised a coward, despite how little he was actually raised), and, for the briefest of seconds, Jim is sure he sees something in Spock's eyes. Something glinted in those dark irises that made Jim squirm.

"Ensign Chekov." Pavel jumps a bit at being called out, but responds with a salute.

"Yes, sir?" Spock indicated with his head the open console _right next to Hikaru_, and says, leaving no room for argument,

"A class C planet is located outside of the Delta quadrant; it's habitable for both of our species, and without a native species, save for native fauna and flora. Are you qualified to plot the least dangerous route and project an ETA?"

"Of course, sir." Pavel eagerly agreed; Hikaru didn't turn to look at him, but as he made his way to his seat, Pavel note the barest hint of a smile there. It's enough to make his heart flutter, until he takes in the rest of Hikaru's face; there was a deep dark black eye (his left), and a half healed gash on his right cheek. He doesn't want to ask, doesn't know if he wants to hear, but when Hikaru just shook his head, he knew that everything was alright, and he'd get the rest of the story later. For now, he just focused on his given task.

Spock turned back to Kirk and raised an eyebrow.

"You have questions."

"You know damn well that I do." Spock nodded, and began walking. The barest glimpse over his shoulder made it clear that Jim was supposed to follow him. Begrudgingly he did.

Spock led him off the bridge and to the turbo lift. None followed; Jim didn't know whether to be offended or pleased (either they valued him as too weak to be bothered with, or they correctly assumed Spock could contain him if he got rowdy). The lift was silent for some time, before Spock began quietly.

"You are aware of the survey done several days after the Narada?" Kirk nodded, knowing exactly what he'd been talking about; the survey in question had been to determine, not only the exact number of lives aboard the _Enterprise_, but to find out how many of each species had made it, as well as the amount of males and females. The survey had concluded that there were exactly 11,457 aboard the ship, and that 10,196 of them were male. This was beyond worrying, it was nerve wracking. But the bridge crew had decided not to formally announce that the extinction of Humans and Vulcans was quickly approaching-they'd decided to wait until they managed to find a place to colonize, even though an idiot could look around and see that the _Enterprise_ was almost exclusively a sausage fest.

"Of course. I was the one that made the call not to announce the entire findings."

"Captain, **you** might not have announced them, but nonetheless, one way or another, they were leaked."

"What?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Does that surprise you? What you should find interesting is that they were leaked only to the Vulcan passengers."

"How- who?"

"It was Uhura."

Kirk tried not to curse, and promised himself that he'd kill her, or in the very least find a way to make her suffer, for putting the passengers into a panic. Come to think of it, the coup had happened a week after the findings of the survey- Jim was willing to bet his left nut that was why the Vulcans took over.

The lift stopped and Spock stepped out, into the sterile air that was definitely sickbay. It was more or less deserted, but Spock nodded a slight greeting to the Vulcan's present (and the few humans on duty; Jim wondered how and why they weren't being held hostage). Spock knew exactly where he was going, and Jim followed, ignoring the goosebumps as he adjusted to Sickbay (he hated them, he hated hospitals, anywhere that there were doctors).

"A solution had to be found to the problem."

"The problem?"

"Yes, the imminent extinction that both of out species is facing. Here." He paused in front of one the biobeds, this one occupied by a woman though. "Observe her, and then look at her identification tag, Captain."

So Kirk did.

She was pretty; a broad, sunburned face (no not sunburned, one so used to being tanned the coloration would always be dark), a broad mouth, dark brown hair. Not slim, not fat, either-about 5'9''. Her hair was ridiculously short though. Finally Jim glanced at her tag, and felt his vision blur for the briefest of moments.

_McCoy, Leonard._


	3. Chapter 3

It takes several seconds for the name on the tag to actually click- Bones is a woman.

What the fuck?!

Jim wanted to shout, to turn at Spock and demand that he turn his best friend back. Jim wanted to run out of the sickbay. He wanted to go back in time and save Earth. He wanted to wake Bones up and just hug him, like he had after one of his flashbacks from Tarsus IV (even though Bones had sworn him to secrecy about the matter).

Jim could only stare.

"What the hell did you do?!" Kirk shouted, turning on his heel to face Spock- his blood pounded in his ears so hard that his voice sounded far away. Spock's reply sounded far gone as well, but he could just make it out.

"We've prevented a catastrophe, Captain."

"BY TURNING HIM INTO A WOMAN?!" He knew that his voice was shrill, but Jim didn't give a flying fuck. He knew, intellectually, that he needed to calm down and address the situation with dignity and diplomacy, like a Starfleet captain was supposed to do. The thing about that, though, was that Jim _wasn't_ a captain. He was a kid who'd been promoted in the line of duty, and yes, you could trust him to get you out of a situation when all is lost, but Jim wasn't prepared to handle a mutiny from the refugees on his own ship- no one had prepped him for it.

No one had told him to prepare for a betrayal from his First Officer.

"By saving our respective species." Spock clarified, bringing Jim back into reality. He gestured again for Kirk to follow him. Kirk took one last look at Bones and followed Spock out.

Spock led Jim into one of the labs (#3 of 7); striding up to one of the monitors and typing in an access code (Kirk caught the last 3, but not the first 6 of them). There were others in the room, almost all of them Vulcan; they had paused in their operations, all of them looking at Jim with what could be construed as curiosity, and might have been on any other face. The lab was filled with more monitors, an operation table, and several holos of various DNA patterns- mostly human.

Spcok turned to look back at Jim and folded his arms behind his back- his default stance. "We were faced," Spock began, "with the extinction of our respective species', as you well know." Jim nodded sourly. "Had the gap between the populations been smaller, this could have been solved with fetuses raised in a sterile laboratory- artificial insemination of removed eggs. However, because this wasn't the case, this option was illogical; the removal of eggs from a woman is a dangerous operation under the most optimal of conditions- repeated attempts, or the large withdrawal of eggs at one time has the potential to either kill the patient or render her barren."

"2 steps forward, 3 back." Jim muttered, the Vulcans nodded.

"Quite."

"This left us with a large population of males. The solution is simple-"

"Turning men into women?"

"Yes. The procedure itself, while not simple, can be summarized as such. If you would extend your arm, captain, I will demonstrate how it is done." Spock gestured to Jim's left arm, which Jim did not extend. He held it close with his right.

"No."

"Captain. I recommend that you extend your arm."

"No fucking way."

In retrospect, he really should have expected the neck pinch from one of the Vulcan group behind him. But he didn't. He had a second of feeling the nerve pinch, before everything turned black.

* * *

When consciousness returned, Jim was strapped to the table in the lab. His ankles, thighs, chest, wrists and shoulders, hell, even his neck, was strapped down. Unable to lift himself, Jim tried instead to see from his peripheral. So occupied with this, it took him longer than it should have for Jim to notice the small view screen above him. The screen showed what Kirk knew had to be the results of his blood test; certain parts were colored differently, though.

"Those are the results of the test, Captain." An unknown voice said; judging by the inflection, and the dead tone, it was another Vulcan.

"Find anything interesting?" The heavy sarcasm went, of course, over the Vulcan's head; Jim had no clue what to do with his normal snark, now that most people wouldn't react to it.

"We found what we suspected, Mr. Kirk." Jim heard the lack of Captain and wondered what that meant.

"Thank you Kesh. I believe that I am more qualified to explain the Alter operation."

"If you so desire."

"Please ensure that Dr. McCoy is adjusting."

"I will." The retreating footsteps were enough to make Jim snap out of his silence.

"Is Bones okay?" Spock raised an eyebrow at the nickname.

"Dr. McCoy woke up 10 minutes ago; after being denied her initial request of whiskey, she is now consuming a small bowl of vanilla pudding from the replicator. By your definition, I believe that Dr. McCoy is in no danger."

"Thank Christ." The sigh of relief was audible as a weight was almost visually taken from Jim's shoulders. The half-smile at the confirmation about 's safety stirred something unpleasant in Spock. Something that he chose to ignore without a second thought.

"What's the big deal with my blood? Why is blood work a determining factor in this…operation?" Jim asked. Spock blinked and stepped closer, into Jim's line of sight. He reached up and adjusted the view screen so that it showed a close up of the results.

"The results of a blood test reveal many things, Captain. One of the things it reveals is the amounts of hormones in the body, the primary determinant in whether or not a human will go through with the surgery. Or, to be more accurate, whether or not they are capable of it."

"How do you figure that?" Jim asked, trying to be cocky and failing miserably. The smells of the lab were getting to him, so instead he focused on what he could see of Spock.

Looking at him, he could tell exactly where the young features would age and mature. He could see the elderly features clear as day, and that was distracting enough to keep him out of an impending panic attack.

"You are aware, of course, that in males, the primary hormone produced in the body is testosterone, while in females estrogen is made instead?"

"Spock, I took xenobio. I know the hormones in the body, dammit, now what do they have to do with turning me into a girl?!"

"In due time, Captain. However, of course, estrogen is also produced in males, and testosterone can be made in females as well. They should, of course be in significantly less amounts," Jim heard the _should_ clear as day, but stayed quiet. This is the truth in most cases. However, a larger than normal percentage of the males aboard the _Enterprise_, over 86% in fact, produce a remarkably large amount of estrogen, equaling, or in some case, more than, testosterone."

"And that-"

"Is how we determine who is eligible. Using extracted DNA of the patient, we are able to grow ovaries, a uterus, fallopian tubes, and a cervix. With a simple extraction and incision-"

"You cut off my dick and make me a vagina, I get it."

"Yes." Spock said awkwardly, and noted that Jim seemed to be enjoying the discomfort. "…The organs are grown in a sterile environment, exposed to the DNA of its soon-to-be host. Eggs are grown within the ovaries automatically. The higher estrogen levels are needed to ensure the full working of the organs, and to be sure that the implants aren't rejected. They organs are sewn in, and the patient is kept under anesthesia until the organs are stabilized, and we are certain they will not be rejected.

"From there, we are ale to manipulate the genetic pattern on the patient, and adjust the appearance of the patient-"

"So you won't have to fuck a man with a vagina?"

"No, Captain. It is to ensure that conception, gestation and birth, as well as child rearing will be less difficult."

"Larger breasts, fuller hips."

"Yes." Spock agreed quietly, pointing to the monitor. "As you might have concluded, you are among the 86%. You, Captain, are going to be among the Alters." Kirk's mind was wild with thoughts- most of them revolving around what what happen to him and his crew.

"Why us?" Jim asked Spcok in a small voice. "Why only the humans? Why not yourselves?"

Spock shifted, just the slightest bit on his feet. "We did preliminary testing. It's a little known fact that Vulcan DNA is very…rigid. It is difficult to adjust, and not compatible with many species; this is the reason that there are few half-Vulcan's. Human DNA, however, is much more flexible, shall we call it? In order for the operation to work, there needs to be adjustment down to the chromosomal level-the Y chromosome is replaced and regrown, and my own people would not survive this, defeating the purpose."

Something in Jim snapped in the way the explanation was so calmly given, and he felt any sort of diplomacy just sort of get shoved into a mental closet. He strained against the bonds again, screaming, "oh, so I'm just some fucking broodmare? What, am I just going to be fucked until someone knocks me up? And then what? Are you green blooded bastards at least going to let me raise my children? Or are you just going to take them away and put another one in me right away?" It was both entertaining and unsettling to see the look of faint horror dawning on Spock's face as he continued.

"Captain!" Spock interrupted, "you misunderstand what we plan by repopulating our species. After being Altered, you will not be used as a broodmare, as you seem to fear. My kind are mourning their mates and their intendeds-humans will be able to provide the companionship necessary to ease the pain we are feeling. You will each be bonded to one Vulcan. You won't be used as a…broodmare, as you put it." He assured, as much as Spock could assure.

"Oh, can you tell me who I'll be bonded to?" Kirk asked sarcastically, although he froze when he saw the faint hesitation on Spock's face. "You do know. Tell me, dammit! Who the fuck are you planning on bonding me with?!"

"Me, Captain." Spock replied, very quietly, averting his eyes. He didn't see, and didn't want to see, the look of shock and faint disgust at the prospect. "You will be bonded to me."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Captain, I'm sorry to say that I have no choice in the matter, and neither do you." Spock continued, finally looking at him; Jim noted the dark, intense eyes- they were human, yes, but there was a depth to them that he had rarely see. "We're T'hy'la, and this is something that we cannot change."

"What's T'Hy'la?" Jim asked, fearing the answer.

Spcok contemplated on how best to explain such an important aspect of his culture. It was almost too difficult to summarize, and they didn't have the necessary time to explain it in full. Deciding on the best way to shorten it, Spock said, quietly, "T'hy'la is the strongest bond that my people have. It's rare in the current generations, mainly because it's founded through battle, through _telsu_. It was more common in the primitive history, before the teachings of Surak, for that very reason."

"So, on the bridge, when we were fighting?" Jim realized, mouth opening in surprise. Spock nodded.

Spock shuddered to think what would have happened if he'd been unable to feel the fledgling bond blooming beneath his fingers. It had come into being just as Jim's life was about to end; he remembered, though, hearing the echo of his father's voice, his inhibitions whited out by rage and grief. But he had felt it, the bond-he'd felt the desperation, _I'msosorryIhavetodothisforgivemesosorry_. He knew then, James T. Kirk was his one, his T'hy'la.

"T'hy'la is the complete bonding of two people; it is the Vulcan equivalent of a human soul mate." Spock remembered frantically, in secret of course, researching the subject. He'd been so fascinated with the idea of someone who could understand him to the deepest level, it had been his…greatest wish, to have a T'hy'la- he'd wondered if he did, where they were, what they looked like. And now, here was Jim, and here they were, in a situation so unusual that he could do nothing about it.

"What if I reject the bond?" Jim asked, and saw the faint twitch of Spock's lower right eyelid. He knew weakness when he saw it, and he seized on this, "what if I reject you and bond with another? Would they fuck me instead? Give me children? I'd be their woman then, right?" Jim almost missed the movement, but then Spock was close, whispering his ear.

"You may try to deny our bond, Captain. You may _try_, but know this," and here the tone sent chills down Kirk's spine. "If you take another, they will not have you long." The threat hung in the air as Spock straightened again, turning and stepping out of Kirk's line of sight. He left the lab, heading to the turbo lift, passing the healers responsible for the operation; despite coming up with procedure, Spock wasn't qualified to actually perform it.

He stepped in, and readied himself to speak with the council; uneasiness settled in his belly, and only grew with each passing moment, no matter his attempts to quell it. Unable to direct his mind away, his thoughts drifted to Cadet Uhura.

He respect the cadet; she was capable, hard working, and good at her job. This was what he'd thought as her instructor, now though, as her commanding officer, Spock became aware of another truth about Uhura; she was willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted.

And she wanted Spock.

Uhura's skill with languages was not exaggerated; she truly had a magnificient gift with them, able to speak every language in the UFP fluently (and many not part of the federation: i.e. Klingon). Vulcan, of course, was one of them. Uhura had stumbled upon a brief mention of the coup, back when it been in it's early stages, in his native tongue; she'd immediately offered her assistance. Uhura was willing to give them access and override codes to the _Enterprise_, saving the Vulcans several months of planning, and gave them instead time to study what would become the Altered Operation. For her assistance, Uhura had requested one thing.

Permission to bond with Spock.

Now, Spock had to break the news to the council, and Uhura, by extension, that he was, in fact, already bonded with Jim. Uhura's request would be denied, as T'hy'la was regarded as the most important bond, superseding all claims and promises made before it's realization.

This was a conversation he did not look forward to.

* * *

The doctors came in and Jim felt his heart racing again. He swallowed the fear; they were dressed in surgical gowns and masks, the head doctor obviously Vulcan, although the assisting doctor was human (he looked at Jim with pity, but still filled the needle with a sedative). A steel cart was rolled in, and Kirk knew immediately that was where his new organs were.

"Is this going to hurt?" He asked, realizing as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he sounded like a child.

"It will not hurt until you awaken from the anesthesia." The doctor assured, the needle sliding in cleanly. The numbness spread almost immediately from the entry point, Kirk barely feeling the IV being put into his arm. By the time that the mask was sealed over his mouth, Kirk was drifting on a sea of drugs, and finally surrendered to the current.

* * *

James T. Kirk slept through the removal of what made him a man.

She slept through the regrowth of her genes, of the insertion of organs, and the tweaking of everything to her very chromosomes. She slept and slept, and felt nothing for a time that was unmeasurable.

But Kirk woke up, eventually, and when she did she faced marriage, childbirth, and captivity; she had no name, a new gender, and a face that she both did and did not recognize.


End file.
